I Love You, Man!
by theicemenace
Summary: Hawkeye takes one for the team...sort of.


**A/N: **This story, like many of mine, started out as a joke. But after some goofy brainstorming with ladygris, this is what came out.

Enjoy!

~Sandy

**Avengers**

**I Love You, Man!**

Weapon at the ready, the Black Widow crouched behind a bush next to her partner, Hawkeye. A super-cell storm had swept through the San Diego area with the zoo taking the brunt of the damage and in the process releasing many of the larger animals. Most of them had been rounded up by the time the Avengers had been called in. A few of the larger cats were proving difficult to catch. Due to the danger they presented to public, the governor of California had requested assistance, and the Avengers had stepped up for the PR opportunity. Ironman corralled a couple of the larger mammals and saw to their return to the zoo before returning to New York. Bruce stayed home, feeling that the Other Guy would be more of a hindrance than a help.

The crunch of twigs signaled the approach the large animal vet armed with a tranquilizer gun that superficially resembled a blaster from the first Star Wars movie. Over her shoulder, Natasha hissed a warning. "If you keep making noise, Dwight, we'll never catch them."

"Sorry. I just-I've never had to actually track one before." He tapped Clint on the shoulder. "So what's with the bow and arrows? Seems a little low tech for the Avengers."

"It's my thing. Like being an a*****e is yours." The man didn't seem to take offense though Clint had meant it as an insult.

"So that's _all_ you do. Shoot _arrows_ at stuff?"

Clint bristled at the man's disdainful tone and Natasha cringed. They were in a wooded area that doubled as a park. It had running and bike trails, a dog park and an enormous wooden playground for the kids. Clint got to his feet, tucking his thumbs into his waistband near the belt buckle, one hip thrust to the side. "Pick a target and I'll hit it."

Now Dwight was showing some interest. "_Any_ target?"

Lifting a finger, Clint qualified his challenge. "No humans or animals."

A little disappointed, Dwight glanced around and pointed. "There. That tree. There's a knot about the size of a…"

Before the vet could finish the sentence, Clint nocked an arrow, sighted and released. The arrow sailed through the air missing all the trees in between and stuck in the middle of the knot.

Impressed, all Dwight could say was, "Whoa!"

Suddenly, Natasha's hand came down on Dwight's shoulder taking him to the ground. "Sh! I hear something."

The sound of twigs breaking followed by a throaty growl reached their ears making Dwight nervous. He turned too quickly, tripping and falling, the hiss of the tranq gun loud in the relative quiet of the woods.

~~O~~

"Ow!" Clint plucked the fletched dart from his arm stuck just below the sleeve of his black uniform shirt. "Sonofab…" His vision started darkening at the edges, his limbs turned to rubber, eyes rolling back in his head as he slumped to the ground.

~~O~~

Natasha snatched the gun from Dwight. "_Eblan!_ Give me that before you hurt someone else!" She tapped her comm. "Cap, you there?"

"_Here, Widow. What's up?_"

"Hawkeye's down."

She heard Steve talking to someone out of range then come back on. "_On my way._"

Dwight knelt next to Clint patting him on the cheek and moaning. "He's not waking up! Oh God! I killed him!"

Kneeling next to Dwight Natasha pushed him aside. "Is whatever was in that syringe going to hurt him?"

"I-I don't know! I was aiming for…"

A low growl reached Natasha, she spun on one knee, the tranq gun coming up and firing all in one smooth motion just as Steve arrived. The white tiger she'd sensed stalking them took a few more steps, its head dipping low to the ground then flopped over onto its side with a loud grunt.

Steve crouched next to Clint just as the archer let out a soft snore. "His breathing's okay. We should get him to Banner." He slid an arm under Clint's back and the other under his knees, lifting him easily. "Ride's this way."

Still holding the tranq gun, Natasha nodded, grabbed Dwight by his shirt front and pulled him along. He dragged his feet trying to get loose, but she was relentless. Dwight dug his heels in finally bringing Natasha to a stop. "_Where_ are you taking me?"

"You're going to tell our doctor what's in these syringes."

"Let him go, Widow. The lab can analyze it."

Jerking out of her grasp, Dwight straightened his shirt and smoothed his hair, what little he had, back into place. "I'm glad one of you has a level head."

The hatch of the quinjet was already open. Steve carried Clint inside and set him gently on the floor in the rear compartment then faced the vet. "Look, son. She has a volatile temper. It's best if you just walk away before you get hurt."

Natasha glared daggers at Dwight as she knelt at Clint's side. Eyes wide with fear, the vet backed up, turned and jogged away. Steve nodded to the pilot and moments later they were in the air. "JARVIS, Hawkeye's down. Have Banner meet us on deck."

There was a pause as the AI relayed the message. "_He's on his way, sir, as is Mr. Stark._"

"Thanks."

Taking off her jacket, Natasha folded it under Clint's head, looking up at Steve when he crouched next to her. "I'm sure he'll be alright."

"He will. Bruce'll see to it."

Clint started moaning, his eyelids fluttered, his hand coming up to rub his temples. "Oh, _crap!_ My head _hurts!_"

Natasha dropped a hand to his shoulder when he tried to sit up. "Stay still. We'll be to the tower in a few minutes."

"Tower? Can I just go t' my tent?"

Steve and Natasha exchanged looks of confusion. "Tent?"

"Yeah. I sleep in th' tent with Beppo 'n Snitch." He again tried to sit up and Steve rushed to help him. Looking around, Clint frowned. "Where are we? This a plane or somethin?" Clint's speech was slurred as if he were drunk and his eyes seemed unfocused as he stared at them blearily.

"Yes, it is." Patting him on the shoulder, Steve smiled to comfort the archer then nodded to Natasha and they moved out of his hearing. "What's going on?"

Her expression subdued, the Russian let her eyes meet his. "Clint grew up in the circus. He seems to think he's back there."

"That doesn't sound good." Steve was very perceptive for a man seventy years out of step with the world.

As a demonstration, Natasha asked her friend, "Clint, how old are you?"

He eyed her with suspicion, his arms crossed stubbornly. "Fourteen. But I _ain't_ goin' to _school_. Mr. Carson said I don't have to."

~~O~~

The archer lost consciousness again as they landed on the Stark Tower helipad forcing Steve to carry him to the medical lab.

"Put him there," Bruce ordered. The team stepped back to let him work as he performed a quick examination. He lifted Clint's eyelids, flashing a light in each then took some blood, sending it and the tranq gun to the lab to be processed. Satisfied with the results, he turned to his friends. Thor was the only one missing because he was spending time with Jane. "He'll be fine in two or three."

"Three _days?_ Really?" Tony's exclamation didn't surprise anyone.

Bruce took off his glasses using the tail of his shirt to clean them. "The drug will have to be metabolized naturally, but he'll be fine."

Crossing her arms, Natasha advertised her concern for her friend. "Will there be side effects to look for?"

Smiling, Bruce replaced his glasses. "When he wakes up, and he will before much longer, you should expect him to be…not quite himself."

"Not himself how?" Steve asked.

Again, Bruce smiled. "You'll see."

"Will he be sick? Hungry? Delusional?"

"Drunk. Then he'll crash in a few hours, sleep anywhere from ten to fourteen hours and wake up with one _hell_ of a hangover."

Tony made a dismissive sound. "Like _that_ hasn't happened before. Remember the time Legolas challenged me to a Jungle Juice drinking contest? Which reminds me, one of us should film all of this as blackmail material for later. JARVIS?"

"_I'll take care of it, sir._"

The billionaire's suggestion broke the tension and they all chuckled. Whatever happened, Hawkeye would not live this day down for years to come. Groaning came from the exam area and the group turned as one to see their friend sitting up on the side of the bed his head in both hands.

~~O~~

"What the _hell_ happened?" His speech was still slurred as Clint looked at them. Their faces were distorted like he was seeing them through a funhouse mirror. "Whoa. You guys look funny. Are ya feelin' alright?"

"We're fine, Clint. How are _you_ feeling?"

He slid off the bed swaying as Steve and Bruce stood on either side of him. "'M fine. Jus' fine." He rubbed his stomach, his features scrunching in confusion. "Hungry. Le's get somethin' t' eat."

Out in the hall, he started to go to the left, but Steve grabbed his arm. "Whoa, pal. Dining room's this way."

Looking left, right and left again. He straightened his back and tugged the front of his shirt down forcing himself not to show how dizzy he was. "I knew dat. Jus' wanted t' see if ya were payin' attention."

~~O~~

Half way to the main dining room, Clint began to giggle. He dropped his arm around Natasha's shoulders leaning on her until they both staggered. "Hey, Nat, ya 'member in Mumbai when we were comin' outa the bunker with that, um, whatever it was, 'n you said…"

"No."

"Sh-sh-sure you do. It was jus' las' week."

Natasha glared at the three men and finally Steve took Clint's other arm and hooked it over his shoulders as he took the archer's weight from her. "No, Clint. That was almost ten years ago."

"Tha's weird. I coulda swore it was…" He trailed off, understandably puzzled. "Ya know what _else_ is weird?"

"What?"

Clint giggled. "Nat's _name_. Nnnaaaat. Nah-tish-uh Roamin' off."

"Maybe you should just go lie down," Steve interrupted before Natasha got it into her head to try cognitive recalibration again.

Tightening his arm around Steve's neck, Clint grinned and waved a hand. "Psht! I'm _fine!_ Never better." Steve let him down on the sofa and Clint gave him an unfocused grin. "Steve. My buddy. My _pal_." He patted the seat next to him and Steve perched on the edge ready to bolt. "I jus' want ya t' know…I love you, man!"

"Excuse me?" Steve shot glares at Tony and Bruce when they snorted, covering their laughs with their hands. Natasha just grinned.

"Thanks for bein' my friend."

Throwing off the arm Clint had draped around his shoulders again, Steve shot to his feet. "I'm gonna go change."

Naturally, that gave Clint an idea and his face brightened. "His boxers're probably givin' him a wedgie." He got to his feet and staggered in the direction of his room tugging at the seat of his pants. "I _hate_ it when that happens. That's why I go commando."

The super-soldier just rolled his eyes while Bruce, Natasha and Tony laughed. He trotted down the stairs and went into his room locking the door behind him.

~~O~~

Tony, Natasha and Bruce watched Steve scurry into his room and slam the door breaking into laughter once he couldn't hear. Natasha flopped onto the sofa, pulled her boots off and curled her feet under. "Poor Steve."

"Your sympathy should be with Barton," Tony said as he went to the bar and poured two fingers of scotch and took a sip. "Capsicle won't be able to look him in the eye."

Bruce started to say something that was lost when they heard a loud crash. Tony set his glass on the counter and the men followed Natasha down the stairs to Clint's open door. They found him on the floor of his kitchen with pots and pans all around. Tony and Bruce rushed to help him up and over to the small sitting area that looked out onto the New York skyline through floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He reached down to adjust the crotch of his pants then took Natasha's hand. "Nat. My sweet, adorable Black Widow. Love you most of all. Yer my _best_ friend." He kissed her knuckles and when she saw the smirks on Bruce and Tony's faces, she yanked her hand away. "Hey, I thought we were gonna eat."

Bruce raised his hands. "Allow me." The scientist opened the refrigerator and found lasagna ready for the oven.

"_Mr. Stark, sir. Ms. Potts is on her way up._"

"Thanks, JARVIS." Tony drummed on the counter, shrugged sheepishly and was gone totally ignoring Bruce's sputtering protest about not wanting to be left alone with Clint in his present condition.

Natasha gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm going to shower and change. How long until dinner?"

Shrugging, Bruce resigned himself to being alone with the tranquilized archer. "Hour or so."

Nodding, Natasha padded away in her bare feet leaving the door open. Bruce turned to his only companion. "Barton."

"Yo!"

"I'm putting the lasagna in the oven. What temp?"

To Bruce's dismay, Clint pushed off the sofa and came to lean on the bar counter in front of the cooking area. "Three seventy-five. Twenty-five minutes with the foil on and twenty-five with the foil off." Clint pulled out one of the barstools, but when he tried to get on it, he missed and almost fell. "Whoops!"

Finally, he made it and seemed relatively stable. While Bruce put the food in the oven, Clint rested his arm on the counter, dropped his head into his palm and squinted in his direction with a loopy grin compelling Bruce to ask, "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Ya know, until I came t' work for SHIELD, my only friends were clowns, acrobats 'n lion tamers." Clint waved a finger in the air. "We had a sayin' in th' circus. You're either a carny or you're a mark. 'N I _believed_ it. Well, until I met Coulson."

"Really?" Bruce took bowls from the cabinet then set about making a salad to go with the lasagna, quickly cutting up tomatoes, bell peppers and onion to add to the Romaine and radicchio. He carried the bowls, napkins and silverware to the table and set six places, assuming that Pepper would be joining them.

"'N now I have you guys." He sighed heavily, looking around the room to make sure they were alone, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Wanna know a secret?"

Though he knew it wouldn't do any good, Bruce stated firmly "_No._"

Clint winked at him, or at least tried. "Ya can't tell anyone I told you this 'cause even Nat don't know."

Intrigued, Bruce stopped working to give Clint his full attention. "What doesn't she know?"

"Who?"

"Natasha."

His expression twisted in confusion. "Um… Oh! I 'member. A bunch o' years ago, I was sent to askinate…assiminate…_kill_ her. Now she 'n I had crossed paths b'fore, and every time without _fail_, she kicked my sorry a**, and always with a smile on her face."

Chuckling, Bruce opened the oven to remove the foil from the lasagna. "I bet she did."

"But this last time, when I was s'posed t' kill her, I got t' thinkin'." Clint stood up, nearly fell and only his grip on the edge of the counter kept him upright. "What if I turned her from the dark side?"

"Ah, so you're the one."

That goofy grin was back. "Yup. 'N another secret is I used t' have a _big_ crush on her." He waved his hands and let them fall to slap against his thighs. "Then after we went on the run t'gether, all that time watching each other's backs-trust is _very_ important y'know-we were really close friends. Know what I mean?" That last was slurred together so it sounded like one word.

"I do. Some people are better as friends than lovers."

Clint slapped the counter. "Exactly!" He winked and gestured between them. "Great minds. And I'm really, really glad that we never…you know. Me 'n Nat, I mean. I know lots of people _think_ we do, but we don't. Not even once."

"Maybe you should've kept _that_ to yourself."

Ducking his head, Clint giggled again. "Yer right." Putting a finger to his lips, Bruce indicated he wouldn't say a word. "You cooking, Bruce? 'Cause something smells _really_ good."

Rolling his eyes and smiling indulgently, the scientist took plates from the cabinet. "Lasagna."

"That's _so freakin' weird!_ _I_ was gonna make lasagna today too!"

Tony and Pepper came into the room as Bruce started to explain. "Don't even try, Banner. It'll just confuse him."

Turning too quickly, Clint tripped and went sprawling face first at Pepper's feet. "Oh my God. Clint! Are you okay?" She and Tony helped him stand again taking him to the dining room table.

"'Course I am."

"Men are always falling at your feet, aren't they?" The others looked away as the couple kissed.

~~O~~

Clint heard himself talking, but couldn't seem to stop. Not to mention that a few minutes later he couldn't remember what he'd said or to whom he'd said it. He sat at the table where Stark and Pepper had put him after his fall, his stomach growling, reminding him he hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Hey, Bruce. How about a bottle o' wine with that lasagna?"

Bruce was at his side momentarily with a glass of iced tea. "Alcohol is contraindicated in your current condition."

"I got a condition?" A funny thought struck him and he just had to share it with the others, a playful smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. "I'm not _pregnant_, am I?"

"You were hit with an animal tranquilizer. You'll live, but you won't enjoy it for a couple of days."

Bruce's confident tone relieved Clint's mind though. Something nagged at him, but he couldn't bring it into focus. "Oh, okay. Um, we gonna eat soon? I'm _starvin'._"

"As soon as Natasha and Steve get here."

As if Cap and the Black Widow rejoining the group had been a signal, Clint's eyelids began to droop. Crossing his arms on the table, he lay his head down and was about to drop off when a heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder, Tony's voice booming in his ear, "Wake up, Legolas!"

"I'm-I'm awake. I think." Clint rubbed his eyes, pulled the napkin from under his place setting and tucked it into the collar of his blue T-shirt while Tony poured wine for the others. He wondered why he was drinking tea, but it was too much trouble to remember.

"Time to eat."

Steve placed a pair of trivets on the table for the lasagna pan as Clint looked at the faces of his friends counting himself lucky to have them. When he first left the circus, he'd drifted from town to town. Living one day at a time until he'd crossed paths with Phil Coulson. It was only fitting that he be remembered. Getting to his feet, he lifted his glass of tea. "I would like t' propose a toast t' my good friend, Phil Coulson. He died without ever knowing what his friendship meant t' me."

~~O~~

Natasha listened with wonder as Clint told each of his team just how much he cared about them and how honored he was to have them as friends. His speech was filled with heartfelt affection for the people he cherished most in this world and Natasha was touched as he finally wound down.

"And Steve, you won't be steppin' on my toes if ya wanna date Nat, 'cause she and I aren't sleepin' together." He stopped seeming to gather his thoughts. His already unfocused eyes became more so as his words faltered and he began to sway. "…Um, what was I s-s-sayin'?"

Bruce pushed back from the table and came around to Clint's side. "Come with me."

"Huh? But we got lasagna and I'm makin' a spee-"

Quick as a flash, Steve reached Clint's other side just as the archer eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. The two men carried Clint's dead weight to the bed with Natasha on their heels. She waited until they'd put him down then pulled the covers over him.

Returning to the table, Natasha studiously avoided looking at the super-soldier and the peeks she sneaked told her he was keeping his eyes on his plate as well. As the meal ended, she counted herself lucky to have gotten through today without further embarrassment when Tony said, "Now _this_ is awkward, but you two have to get over it, if you want this spark to turn into a flame."

Filled with righteous indignation on their behalf, Pepper exclaimed, "Tony!"

"What? You don't see it? Because _I_ do."

Pepper picked up her glass of wine and took a sip to calm down before speaking. "That's _not_ the point."

"Fine. How about a _new_ topic?"

Bruce raised his hand. "Agreed."

Tony speared lettuce and tomato with his fork. "I propose we give Barton a taste of his own medicine."

"Not sure that's a good idea, Stark," Steve added.

"Are you _seriously_ telling me you aren't going to take advantage of the opportunity to mess with Barton's head?" Steve finished chewing his last bite of lasagna and swallowed without responding which Tony took as agreement. "It's settled. What's for dessert?"

Getting to her feet, Pepper picked up hers and Tony's dishes and carried them to the kitchen with Bruce behind her. "We clean the kitchen then everyone leaves Clint to rest."

As if to punctuate her declaration, Clint let out a loud snore though it did nothing to break the tension.

The dishes had been done and the leftover food put away yet still Natasha lingered hoping Steve would leave so she could escape to her room. She finished wiping down the counter, rinsed the washcloth and hung it over the faucet to dry. Satisfied that they'd left the kitchen and dining room the way they'd found it, she turned out the lights. Distracted by her own thoughts, she didn't pick up the sound of Steve's breathing until she'd nearly tripped over his feet in the dark.

The darkness wasn't complete though because she could see his eyes watching her from his place on the sofa. She stopped in front of him, her eyes keeping contact with his as he got to his feet towering over her.

~~O~~

"Walk you to your room?" Steve held out his hand, and after a momentary hesitation, Natasha placed hers in it. He pulled the door to Clint's room shut then led her down the hall. At her door, he released her hand, shoving both of his into his pockets. "So what're we gonna do about this?"

"This?"

"Natasha."

Her name was a reprimand and it annoyed him that he hadn't been able to assert greater control over his emotions. She looked down at the floor, appearing uncertain, probably for one of the few times in her life. "I don't think it's a good idea. What if it doesn't work out? We still have to work together."

"People use that as an excuse every day. But that's all it is. An excuse." His hands came out of his pockets and slowly, so as not to startle her into doing something rash, he framed her face, cupping her cheeks with his palms. After what seemed an eternity of waiting, he finally felt her hands come in between them to rest on his chest. He took that as an invitation and dipped his head to brush a soft kiss over her lips, but it didn't stay that way. Natasha's hands continued their trek up over his collarbones, shoulders and around the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. When they drew apart, they were both breathing hard, the light of desire in their eyes. She inhaled sharply when he touched his forehead to hers then planted a tender kiss to that spot. "Good night, Natasha."

He stepped back and suddenly she was in her room leaning against the closed door until her racing heart returned to normal.

~~O~~

The next day, Clint awoke in bed wondering how he'd gotten there when the last thing he remembered was hunting the escaped tiger. Opening his eyes turned out to be a bad idea when sharp daggers stabbed into his skull. Moaning, he sat up on the side of the bed elbows planted on his thighs head in his hands. Feeling the roughness of his jeans, he cracked his eyelids enough to discover that he was fully dressed making him wonder what the hell had happened the night before. _I feel like day three of a two day bender. I don't remember partying last night._

Getting to his feet, he staggered into the bathroom first puking his guts out then peeing like a racehorse. He washed his hands, splashed water on his face feeling the stubble of a beard that felt like more than the usual overnight growth. Checking the time, he saw that it was late afternoon.

_Too damn bad. I need coffee!_

Going to the kitchen, he hit the button on the coffeemaker then stood over it until it stopped. He poured half a cup and drank it down then filled the cup, slipped on his dark sunglasses and made his way upstairs to the common area. Hopefully, someone there would be able to fill in the blanks.

Clint found Natasha and Steve sitting together on the end of the sofa talking quietly stopping when they saw him. In the back of his mind, he thought it odd, but didn't pursue it. At the bar, he lowered himself onto a stool and sipped his coffee.

In a while, he realized he was being watched and lifted his head to see Steve, Natasha, Bruce and Pepper trying to look casual and doing a bad job of it. Pretending to ignore them, he continued to sip his coffee until Tony breezed into the room. He came straight to Clint and tried to hug him. "Good to have you back, buddy."

"What?!" Clint pushed him away, jumping off the stool. "Get off me!"

Pouting, the billionaire dropped his arms to his sides. "But you said you loved me."

"Did not!"

The pout turned into a smirk. "JARVIS, let's go to video." On the television monitor Clint saw himself, doped to the gills, hugging Tony and saying, "I love you, man!"

He shot Tony a glare, almost growling, "I hate you!"

Natasha insinuated herself between Clint and Tony, wrapping an arm around his neck and speaking in a purr. "Hey there, _tiger._"

Just about to take a drink, Clint choked. "What the _hell _are you doing, Nat?"

"Relax, Clint-baby." She squeezed his backside making him jump. "We're all adults here."

His eyes widened in dread that he'd done something uncivilized during the span of time he couldn't remember, and Tony wasn't making it any easier. "Shall we go to video?"

Frantic, he put both hands out to ward off Tony's suggestion. "NO!"

"What's wrong, Legolas? Embarrassed?"

Giving himself a double face palm, Clint groaned, "Please, God. Just kill me now."

Pepper could no longer keep a straight face and once she began laughing, the others did as well. "We're sorry, Clint. It was Tony's idea to give you a hard time."

Sagging in relief, Clint resumed his seat, hand cradling his now empty coffee cup. "Why am I _not_ surprised? So we didn't…" he looked pointedly at Natasha.

"No. But the look on your face was worth letting you think so."

He glared, relieved that he hadn't ruined their friendship. "So, I didn't _really_ tell Stark…"

"Actually, that you _did_ do."

Muttering under his breath, he pushed a hand through his hair leaving it standing on end. "What happened? I don't remember anything after the park." Bruce, with Natasha's and Steve's help, filled in the blanks. "How long was I out?"

Natasha gave him another smirk. "About twenty years."

"What?!"

"Never mind. At least you're feeling better."

Clint had just poured his third cup of coffee when Tony headed for the elevators singing _Send in the Clowns_ and leaving the archer to wonder if his friends had really told him everything.

**End**

**A/N: **"Send in the Clowns" is a song by Stephen Sondheim from the 1973 musical _A Little Night Music_, an adaptation of Ingmar Bergman's film _Smiles of a Summer Night_. In 1975, Judy Collins recorded the song and included it in her album, _Judith_.


End file.
